


Thunk

by Mikkal



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Self-Harm, spoilders for Verses Zoom and Back to Normal, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:21:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7044496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikkal/pseuds/Mikkal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry hasn't ridden the bus since before his powers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thunk

_thunk. thunk. thunk._

He’s going to get a bruise, big time, and now he’s got a headache forming, but he’s only been on the bus for five minutes and he’s already gotten shoved, felt up, and cursed at (extensively and _loudly_ ). Barry did _not_ miss public transportation, even Central City’s nationally renowned ZFCCT. In fact, one of the reasons he had been late all the time in the past was because he got off on stops way too early than what he really needed just to get away from some of the patrons.

 _thunk_.

Barry closes his eyes, trying to ignore the baby crying in the back and their mom frantically trying to hush them—there’s a sort of desperation in her voice, exhaustion, and he sort of wants to help, but he feels so beaten down, so hollow. He barely feels like Barry Allen before.

 _thunk_.

He’s not even sure he _is_ Barry Allen without the Flash. Is he?

 _thunk_.

(hint: he’s not)

Goddamn _thunk_.

“When’s your stop?”

Barry jerks, startled, and turns away from the window his head had been making acquaintance with to stare wide-eyed to a girl who can’t be older than fourteen. She’s got a bright red messenger bag on her lap, the logo clear as day. The _Flash_ logo. Cisco’s (new) one, the one with the white background. The lightning bolt is too bright of a yellow, the red blinding, but it looks…good…

Something twists in his gut.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “When’s your stop?” she repeats, patiently. God, he doesn’t remember having that much patience as a kid, especially at fourteen. It took him two more years after that to stop hating the world so much, everyone use to get on his nerves. She smiles at him even when he doesn’t answer. “Soon, I hope.” She points at his face. “That looks like it’s going to become a nasty bruise. Don’t want to give you time to make it worse. It’d go to well with the necklace you’ve got going on.”

His face pales, his chest goes cold. He scrabbles at the collar of his jacket, popping it so it covers the bruises around his neck from Zoom’s hands. _Fuck_. He promised himself he wouldn’t let anyone see how bad it is.

“Whoa!” Her hands going flying up, palms towards him in defense. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. Relax.” Her smile is smaller now, a little more scared. “Do I need to call someone for you? Are you going to the hospital? Do you need help?”

Of anything she could’ve said, he definitely hadn’t been expecting _that_. He hadn’t been expecting help.

He parts his lips and only gets that far before he’s shaking his head. Hartley taught him—them—some basic ASL back in the day, but he’s not sure if she knows it or not. So he digs out a pad of paper and scribbles an answer and his thanks on it, his hand shaking a little more than he’d like.

She takes it half-suspiciously—suspicion that only increases when she actually reads the note, with the added emphasis of a raised eyebrow and pursed lips.

Her stop comes before she can say anything else, though. Barry watches her leave, her Flash bag bouncing against her thigh as she dodges wayward feet. He feels numb and lost, the pen still clutched in his hand, turning his fingers pale.

Barry swallows thickly, wincing at the twinge of pain his swollen throat gives, and slowly puts his pen away, in his bag, where it belongs.

The baby starts crying again.

He sighs, closing his eyes.

 _thunk_.


End file.
